


Just Friends

by Mikato_Dragos



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28954716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikato_Dragos/pseuds/Mikato_Dragos
Summary: Len and Miku are Just Friends. It's a cliche, sure, but falling in love would be more cliche. Written in the second person.
Relationships: Hatsune Miku/Kagamine Len, Hatsune Miku/Reader
Kudos: 1





	1. Quran 78:31-33

**Author's Note:**

> Just Friends
> 
> By PTO, Mikato and Retujy
> 
> Mikato: This was originally written in November 2019 under the title 'Len's Triple N'.  
> Retujy: But he forgot about it because he's an idiot.  
> Mikato: Yes, but you were the one who made us write this in GNUmacs, which has absolutely no formatting nor copy-paste capabilities.  
> Retujy: Touche.  
> Mikato: I don't know why I picked it up; maybe as a favor to my younger self.  
> PTO: Anyway... enjoy the story, and please leave a comment! :D

'Welcome to Heaven, Lenny.'

'Miku!'

Her twintails flutter as her thin white gown ripples around her.

It is a double contrast, the dress seemingly made out of the light, fluffy, clouds, like dense cotton candy, that supports you and her, parallel to the invisible air which provides sweeping camouflage for her signature colour.

'Didn't I tell you it exists and it's perfect, Lenny?', her voice tinted with jocular rhetoric.

'Heh. Like I'd ever want your ass around for eternity,' you reply, and she lets a laugh escape, as if you had spazzed her.

'Hey, don't shoot the messenger,' she counters, snapping her fingers like a circus magician.

Instantly -

a blond girl lands.

'Rin?'

Sure enough, your sister stands up on a nearby cloud, her jellily opaque bikini covering her light skin like the peel of an orange.

'Big bro!' she smiles happily.

She rushes to you, her arms wide - and just as you think she'll hug you, she grips your shoulders tightly, and shakes you, chanting your title... as if she can't believe she's just done a record lap in the biggest pool the world's ever seen. It's reminiscent of VRChat, because this seems like a fantasy, and suddenly you have the urge to take the headset off -

and the harsh glow of natural light breaks the purple curtains of your room, your little sister peering at you worriedly.

'Aah! Len! I thought your soul was kidnapped by aliens or something!'

Your sister was empty-minded - but to have her so worried about you means...

'What time is it?'

'Eight!' she exclaims anxiously.

Fuck.

Ten minutes to get ready, forty-five on the bus ride, and five for the walk: you'll be late by half an hour. At least Rin won't be late - she still goes to Myriad Middle School, barely fifteen minutes away.

You console her with a quick lie that 'the teacher said she'd give us a free period today because she'd be late' - but seeing her discomfort, you quickly sit up and stumble out.

She doesn't know how bad high school is. Perhaps it's for the best: rumors are that Ms DeVrays, your English teacher, operates a crime ring instead of being "late". A teaching job doesn't pay for a Range Rover and a Louis Vuitton handbag collection.

Your stiff feet brush the orange carpet. As you enter the bathroom, you notice that the mirror stares at you with tired eyes. Hey, it wasn't your fault that you had to spend until two studying for the history exam.

The mint of the toothpaste smarts your dry tongue, even as you drag on nondescript black clothes. It remains as you gulp down your jam sandwich. At the bus stop, you shove some lemon gum into your mouth. The familiar growls of AC/DC travel through your IEMs, something to drown out the noisy bus, as you flick through Paul Wilkinson's 'International Relations: A Very Short Introduction.'

Eventually, you fail to penetrate the stupefying dullness, but continue to glare at page 30, 'Coercive and Liberal States'. Though the music takes over, you also fail to notice that you might be heading on a Highway to Hell.


	2. Exodus 32:1-10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retujy: The reference is at 7.17 of the 17th edition, if you're wondering.  
> Mikato: I wonder if we should write longer chapters.  
> PTO: Let us know in the comments and - enjoy the chapter!

Nobody loiters outside the whitewashed concrete building as you briskly walk through the school gates. The brass plating flakes off the steel frame, the rusty metal unnotable amongst the dirty walls. There is no security; to do so only deters cost-saving. 

It's only been five minutes, but the straps of your backpack, loaded down with textbooks, already blunt your shoulder blades.

The doors to the erection open with a flat creak, and you pace down the uncleaned gray to the stairwell. One, two, sixty steps brings you to the second floor, and you duck into the parallel wall, glancing through the window.

...thank God.

DeVrays isn't here yet, it seems, and you grasp the cold handle, a turn of which brings you into the classroom. The plastic two-in-one chairs are arranged in a three-by-three square facing the empty teacher's desk, and a few of your classmates break from their self-study to look at you idly.

Luka's sitting in the front middle as usual, the queen even over the staff. Her clique, Meiko and Teto, sit around her, occasionally passing each other small notes.

Piko, Oliver and Gackpo are hanging in the back row, their boisterous argument focused on whether Keynesian economics implies the success of communism.

These two stereotypical groups meet about as well as Muslims and Christians - so you almost miss Miku, sitting in the absolute middle. She waves you down to the two empty seats, and you slide into the one nearest the doors.

'Mornin', Kagamine!' she chirps brightly.

This is Hatsune Miku, a cheerful friend of yours ever since that odd day in the library. Nothing seems to faze her, so she doesn't ask why you're late. Instead, as you thud your bag down, she passes a small lettersize to you and grins at you expectantly.

Oh, yeah, you promised to switch notes with her.

You pull out a crumpled piece of paper, a list of mathematical equations, and toss it to her, before attempting to peruse her writing - which, unfortunately, is in cursive. As you flip it over, you realise that it is only one buleted paragraph. It reads:

Possible subjects  
\- USA  
\- Britain  
\- China  
\- Big 3 religions  
\- World Wars  
\- French monarchy  
\- Cavemen

It is definitely a little weird to refer to traditionally manly ancestors with a colloquialism in fancy text, you think. Still, it was cute of her to add little drawings - Funny Valentine here, a warplane there.

You'd spent the night before reading up on the civil wars in China; you hope it won't go to waste. Perhaps it would be better to reexamine European economics, you think, as you reach for Adam Smith.

You jerk back instinctively as DeVrays clicks the doors open, her heels resonating with the tick of the clock. She's in her mid-fifties, her graying hair tied up in a bun. Her gold-horned glasses are ostentatious.

Without so much as an apology, she shuffles the papers in her briefcase then announces, 'Class, attention. We will begin.'

As she launches into another recital of the Chicago Manual of Style, you pay no heed to her; you probably won't even get the chance to form 'the possessive of an abbreviation that is followed by a spelled-out form.' You instead amuse yourself with the Communist Manifesto.


	3. Bakemonogatari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retujy: We heard Kaito is canonically a middle-aged man.  
> Mikato: yeah the official artwork is at least a little inaccurate  
> PTO: Comment if you want - and enjoy the story! :D

You wait outside the history classroom - room 310 - along with Gackpo, Oliver and Piko. They've gone from arguing about commies, it seems, to the QAnon buggers lurking in every onion link.

The supervisor, who introduces himself as Kaito, arrives. He unlocks the door and you follow them into the room, which has four seats arranged in a row. Being the last, you are forced into the window seat. It's unusually sunny today. There's not much time for complaining, though, as the supervisor immediately rattles off how there'll be an hour to complete the essay for the test, and to not use a pen, and to not cheat, yada yada. He hands out two sheets of lined paper, before scratching the question on the board.

'Analyse whether the perception of the afterlife was impacted by translations of religious texts.'

Miku was right after all - it is on religion. It is one of your favourite topics; you should've known not to waste your time last night. As you pick up your HB pencil, you explore your knowledge as if you know what to write - though of course you don't. It's just that you can do it.

…

The clock strikes half past ten, and you exit. It ws a stimulating experience, you think, as you wander down to physics class. You round the corner to room G03, and Miku slaps you on your shoulder blithely. 

'Exam go well?' she asks.

'It was on religion,' you answer, and before she can say she told you so, you continue, 'and I do think I'm good at that.'

'No, you're just a Narcissus,' she retorts teasingly.

'Yours?'

'Terrible. I'm pretty sure I messed up my vectors.'

'Well, you're stupid enough not to realise that you got them right,' you reply, and she punches you playfully as you sit down for yet another self-study session.

Miku's in the path of the aircon, and her hair flows easily in the wind, reminding you of your weird dream. She stands up; you glance back down to your notebook. Someone says they're going to the toilet; you do not react.

You think that Heaven would be more of a Cyberpunk-esque place if it existed; so many people think gaming is life nowadays. You're an atheist anyway, so you don't believe it exists. The dream's odd, but it's not less odd than Miku being your friend. Miku - the credulous religionist who liked to pick and paste from various beliefs around the world, taking it all metaphorically but with an absolute faith in their truthfulness. It's just that she seems so… cheery, that you would feel bad refusing her.

What, did the dream mean Miku was God? No; you didn't even have any love for Miku romantically, let alone on a yandere level. Hell, why was Rin there anyway? If it were people you loved, then your parents should've been the first to welcome you. Did you love Rin romantically?

A feeling tugs itself loose - a tiny voice of desire. You don't entertain it, because it would be wrong. And the last thing you need is for your reliant, innocent sister to be betrayed by her brother. So that's what the orange swimsuit meant - the innuendo is now obvious.

Rin - swimming around in your mind.

Miku - there, cutting through, irrelevant.

The glare of a siren wakes you from your thoughts.


	4. The Antonym of Samson is Nosmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retujy: The chapter title is a reference to how Richard Stallman calls Big Tech 'dooH niboR'.  
> Mikato: I feel like we were a little too edgy - or at least a little too idealistic - in the characters' beliefs.  
> PTO: don't forget to like, subscribe, and comment and - enjoy the story! :D

Apparently a student needed to be sent to hospital.

As you join the crowd leaving the school, you hope to see Miku, but don't.

...you could swear she was in the same classroom.

It all makes sense.

Suddenly, you break, and run up to the tenth floor. You're panting hard.

And yet. You. Understand.

That student -

was Miku.

It's why she was there to introduce you. Because she got there first.

Rin would lose it, too, and join you.

…

Three.

Two.

One -

'Ah! There you are!' a familiar voice pulls.

'E - eh? Miku?' you ask.

'I was in the toilet; I can't believe you ditched me like that!' She narrows her eyes.

You step shakily, before throwing yourself into her. She smells like calendula flowers, not too sweet, and her warmth seeps into you. Your hands find their way up her back, grasping her tightly… and she rubs her blue shirt against your black one, her arms entwining with yours, because, even if she doesn't know why you're doing this, she accepts you.

'Was the test really that bad?' she jokes.

You say nothing as you drop into a kneel, holding onto her waist, your tears fresh against her stomach.

…

Eventually, she breaks the silence.

'So, what about my offer?' she questions.

'...what offer?' you admit quizzically.

'I asked you a week ago if you wanted to come with Rinny and me to the beach!'

'...we have a beach?'

'Yeah! Not many people know about it, though, so we need to go, soon!'

Ugh. You think - you messed up your reasoning.

'...alright.'

You relax into her.

You two may be just friends - 

but for now, on the rooftop, it's just two friends.


End file.
